A call from Trenzalore
by My-Falling-Angel
Summary: 'My body hurts. It hurts so much.' When Eleven's hour is drawing to a close, the Doctor is more frightened than you can ever imagine. Sat in the silent TARDIS on Trenzalore he calls Clara, a future Clara who he hopes will be able to help him. Meanwhile Twelve faces a similar situation, will Clara ever be accept him for who he now is? All his hope rests on a call from Trenzalore.
1. The last call

_Hi, my name's Angel this is my first Fanfiction I've published, yay! Surprisingly, I don't yet own any of the characters or dialog or anything really. Not even the computer I'm typing on. If I did I'd be super rich, famous and the entire world would drown in tears. So it's probably best I don't have that power. Oh well, enjoy the suffering with your free cookie _('-')-o

The dull tone of the phone echoes though my head. The metal pole is uncomfortably cold against my back. My body hurts. It hurts so much.

Please just pick up. Please.

"Hello!" Her voice instantly brightens my darkened TARDIS. I have been alone for so long. Alone in a town called Christmas. Alone on the planet of my death. Alone for nine hundred years. "Hello?" She awakens me from my thoughts.  
"It's me." Each word, each breath hurts so much. I feel as if I'm shouting, in reality my voice is a whisper in the silent room.  
"Yes, it's you, who's this?" It's Clara, my Clara. The young bossy control freak who has no time for nonsense. I haven't heard her voice in so long. Not like this.  
"It's me, Clara. The Doctor." A silence hangs on the line. Our breathing combined as one, both filled with a different type of suffering, both as painful.  
"What do you mean, the Doctor?" She sounds confused, conflicted. Is it possible that she has forgotten me, forgotten this version of me already? Maybe I'm wrong, maybe she will, no, has understood from the start. Or maybe she doesn't understand how I can be calling her.  
"I'm phoning you from Trenzalore-"  
"I don't…" she interrupts when I pause for breath. I can hear the tears threatening to roll down her face.  
"-from before I changed." I confirm her fear. To her, I'm long gone and won't be coming back. To her, the man she is with now, who I hope she is now, isn't me. Isn't the Doctor. I can hear it in her voice. "I mean it's all still to happen for me, it's coming. Oh, it's a-coming… Not long now. I can," I pause again. Why does it hurt so much? "feel it."

I hear her take her phone away from her ear, clutch it to her chest. I hear her deep breaths as she tries to compose herself. It reminds me why I have to do this.  
"Why?" She finally asks. "Why would you do this?  
"Because I think it's going to be a whopper and I think you might be scared." I know something massive is about to happen, no Time Lord has ever survived for the fourteenth time. I'm scared. But I need to make her understand. I'm about to be ripped from this body and thrown into another. Everything I am will change. My personality, my beliefs wiped away in the golden light. But I'm still the Doctor. "And however scared you are, Clara, the man you are with right now… the man I hope you are with, believe me, he is more scared than anything you can imagine right now and he… he needs you."

"So who is it?" a muffled deep Scottish voice interrupts.  
"Is that the Doctor?" I ask. I can't ask if the voice is me, she doesn't see the man in front of her as me, her Doctor, but as a stranger. A man she doesn't know. But he is me and I am him. We are one.  
"Is that the Doctor?" The man repeats my question. There is no pause in his voice, he sounds sure of himself. The intonation is the same as this voice, the only difference being the Scottish accent. I'm sure that voice is mine.  
"Yes." Clara replies, not to the man who stands in front of her, but to the voice on the phone. The voice she trusts with her life. I have taken another faith, another pretty young girl who could never refuse my offer to travel through time and space.  
"He sounds old." A sudden thought occurs to me. "Please tell me I didn't get old. Anything but old!" I've looked old for centuries and now, my newly regenerated body would be old too. I hear Clara chuckle softly to herself. To her and my companions since the Time War, I had always been so young. So had they, I don't like endings but we all change. When you think about it, we're all different people, all through our lives. And that's okay, that's good, you gotta keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be. "I was young. Oh… Is he grey?" My voice is suddenly urgent. I want to be ginger! Why can't I ever be ginger?  
"Yes." She confirms, sounding nervous to be the person to break this terrible news to me. I shake my head. That could have been my last chance to be ginger. Instead I'm going to be grey. Again.

But I'm getting off topic and I don't know how much time I have left.

"Clara, please, eh, for me, help him." My voice ends in a whisper, tears of my own blurring my vision. "Go on and don't be afraid." I hear the TARDIS door click shut. I know I'm coming. I'm coming for my Impossible Girl. "Goodbye Clara." I don't know what to say. For her, these will be my last words to her in this voice. So I settle on the truth. "Miss you." I whisper. And I do miss my Clara. Not the one who will be with me shortly, the one who pities me for looking old. Nor the one who's angry for abandoning her. The sadness in her eyes as she realises that I have come to terms with my 'death'. The pain as she watches as I start to lose my mind. No, I miss the girl who's more frightened than she will ever admit but will always do the right thing. Will always be brave. The Soufflé Girl who spends all her free time in the kitchen with flour on her nose or tucked away in the corner of the library. The bossy control freak who talks to me as an equal, while still marvelling at the wonders of the universe. My Clara.

Clara hangs up without another word. I am left alone. The dial tone drones on. She has gone. Back to her version of me. I'm just a ghost now. An echo passed to her. But now, I need to be ready for her. My version of Clara. I stand and the wold seems to spin faster. I move to doors to put the phone back, stopping at the last moment, half though the door. I remember Handles' last words.  
_You must patch the telephone device back through the console unit.  
_I drop the phone, leaving it hanging from its cable. I'll see it next time I step out the TARDIS. I'll do it then.  
_Thank you, Handles, and well done. Well done, mate.  
_I walk back inside, heading towards the kitchen. I don't think my new self will like fish fingers and custard. Oh well, his loss. I want someone to share them with, Clara despises them. It's at times like this I miss Amy. And Rory. I miss them both. She would understand.

I hear the soft tapping of the hatch closing. Clara must be putting my phone away. I head back to the console room, fish fingers and custard in my favourite bowl.

He's coming. I'm about to start my next adventure.


	2. The first hug

_Hey again, *waves* just an update to tell you I still don't own anything. Also a massive thank you to MysticalPenguin393, Hediru and danceismylife16 for the reviews and favourites. And of course, you for reading! But why are you reading this part when there's the final chapter below? Enjoy :)_

"You've redecorated." Clara states as she enters the TARDIS. It's similar to the old design I had when my eleventh self's face was fresh on, but I kept the silver of the metal bare. I was Naïve back then and the bright colours don't suite my attitude. Before, the universe could be fixed like straitening the bowtie and I could still have time for a Jammie Dodger. I'm not like that anymore. But I'm also not the man who shut himself away on a cloud in the darkened TARDIS banishing all forms of happiness. Now there are new blue round things on the wall, adding some extra light. My new found love of chalkboards mean I don't have to scrawl on the floor anymore and bookshelves align the walls.

"Yes." I state, sitting in a battered leather armchair high above Clara's level.

"I don't like it." I know that line, just like I know this face I now have.

"Not entirely convinced myself. I think there should be more round things on the walls. I used to have lots of round things. I wonder where I put them."

I look down to Clara stroking the console. She never got on well with the TARDIS. Then I look closer, there's something she's not telling me. I haven't phoned yet but I wish I had. She's uncomfortable with me now. To her I'm not even the Doctor. She looks at me accusingly, like I've taken away her favour toy, stolen her Doctor. I'm still here but to her I'm gone.

I stand from my chair and walk towards her; maybe I won't ring for weeks, months, years. My last carnation wasn't known for being on time. I need to do something about her. I don't want be stuck with a girl who won't accept me for who I now am.

"I'm the Doctor. I've lived for over two thousand years and not all of them were good. I've made many mistakes and it's about time I did something about that." I pause as I stand in front Clara, each looking into each other's eyes. I start by addressing my first point on my list, "Clara, I'm not your boyfriend."

"I never thought you were." The young girl looks at me, wide eyed. With the body I have now, her first call to me would never have been made. Her first call, on that Christmas day so long ago.

"I never said it was your mistake. What do you think?" I hastily reply. I pulled down the leaver to start the metallic thrumming the both warmed and froze the hearts of all I encountered. I stand to one side turning to flick out my jacket. The bowtie is long gone, now replaced by a crisp white shirt and navy jacket with a red underlay. She looks down at my new clothes before turning away.

"Who put that advert in the paper?" She asks after a period of silence. Okay, new subject. I lean forwards onto the TARDIS console.

"Who gave you my number? Along time ago, remember? You were given a number of a computer helpline and you ended up phoning the TARDIS. Who gave you that number?" A number that could travel though time.

"The women. The women in the shop." She says, confusion passing her eyes.

"Then there's a women out there who's very keen that we stay together. How do you feel on the subject?" I ask, the next words she says will tell me whether she will stay here with me or leave me before it's too late. I honestly don't know what she will say.

"Am I home?" Clara askes quietly, almost as if she doesn't believe she's asking the question. It's not _the_ question, but it may as well be.

The journey of 101 places to see is over.

"If you want to be." I reply with a forced laugh. She's leaving. And I can't stop her.

"I'm sorry. I'm… I'm so, so sorry, but I don't think I know who you are anymore." She stutters into the empty voids that used to contain my hearts. The deathly silence hangs between us, neither wanting to say our last words. I only look at her when a systematic ringing seems to be coming from her. Her mobile. Her connection to the real world.

"You better get that. It might be your boyfriend." Hope sores into my body and mind, picking up the shards of my hearts and rebuilding them, piece by piece. It's the phone call. The phone call that could save us.

"Shut up. I don't have a boyfriend." She shoots back before exiting the TARDIS. Leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stare after her, trying desperately to remember how long I have.

A minuet and a half. A minuet and a half until I have to leave the safety of my TARDIS and convince Clara to stay with me. A minuet and a quarter until I will have to convince Clara to stay with me. A minuet until I will know the answer to my question. I walk towards the doors. Softly, deathly. I can hear my two hearts pounding in my chest, my ears. Thirty seconds until I open the doors. Twenty. Ten. My hand moves up to the handle. Five, four, three, two.

One.

The light blinds me for a moment as I hang half my body out. I pinpoint Clara standing a short distance away using the wall of a shop for support; a glistening tear shimmering on her cheek.

"So who is it?" I ask, already knowing the answer. It comes louder than I expect. Outside I sound confident but inside my world hangs in the balance. But I've already heard me say it and I will let nothing change that. I know what comes next. The other me asks a question he also knows the answer to. Clara looks up towards me. Not at me though. "Is that the Doctor?" I repeat my own question to her.

"Yes." She answers to the Doctor. Not me. Never me. But I am him and he is me. We are the same. The same two hearts. The same soul. But to her one exists and the other does not. But the one who exists to her is never coming back and the who doesn't stands before her. I see her laugh, if only she could see inside my head right now. I wish I could laugh but the slightest movement could tip my world into the darkness. I am old and I am grey. It's time I accepted this. I shouldn't even be alive. Am I only alive because of Clara's help?

"Yes." Clara replies, glancing over at me. Her answer suits both my questions. Her time with him is drawing to a close. Eleven's hour is over now. Maybe it's time for Twelve's.

Shutting the door behind me I slowly towards her as the last call ends. She finally clicks the end call, wiping her eyes, leaving the other me to fish custard.

"Well?" I ask.

"Well, what?" comes the defensive tone, as she wipes her eyes a final time and turns to face me.

"He asked you a question. Will you help me?"

"You shouldn't have been listening." She snaps back. We are still not the same person, it hasn't changed anything. She's still leaving me. I have nothing left to loose.

"I wasn't. I didn't need to. That was me talking." I reply with a shake of my head. I turn around to leave her here. She could find her own way home for all I care. There are over seven billion people on this tiny planet; surely someone would appreciate my company? But then I realise what's holding me back. The fact I've lost my identity to one human girl. I turn back to say my last words to her, "You can't see me, can you? You look at me and you can't see me." I turn again, I don't want to leave her but she leaves me no choice, "Have you any idea what that's like? I'm not on the phone, I'm right here standing in front of you. Please, just… just see me."

I end my speech begging, I can't leave her. I won't leave her. I want her to stay. I don't want her to go.

But then something happens. Something this face, these eyes, has never seen before. She stops. She looks. She looks at me. Not seeing a bow tie and floppy hair, but me, for who I am. I am the Doctor and that will never change. My face, my personality, my morals will always change. But my soul is the same. I am the Doctor. She slowly walks towards me, continuing to look straight into my eyes. Stopping millimetres from my face I start to feel uncomfortable as she analyses every atom of my being. I lean back slightly, wondering where to look.

"Thank you." she finally whispers with a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"For what?" I wonder. What did I do? I replaced her best friend and disappeared leaving a confused toddler in a grown man's body. I left her in a different time zone with only a lizard lady from the dawn of time and her wife. What has gone right since this face arrived?

"Phoning." She answers. I was wrong. My calling has changed everything. Maybe this means she will stay. Maybe… this thought is suddenly interrupted by a vice-like grip enclosing me. What's happening? Clara! I am being hugged by Clara. My arms flailed worse than my first kiss with River. What do I do?

"I… I don't think that I'm a hugging person now." I manage to stutter as Clara shows no sign of letting go any time soon. Before she wouldn't come within a meter of me, now I can't escape her.

"I'm not sure you get a vote." I can hear the smile that has formed on her lips. I prefer this version of Clara, my young bossy control freak who's more frightened than she will ever admit. But she has once again overcome this to see the beauty underneath.

"Whatever you say."


End file.
